Eat My Cake

Things have been a little on the chaotic side as of late. From rehashing break-ups to missed connections everything has been nonstop. Thank the lord for alcohol.

Shew left for China and the first night he was gone ended up being the third night I went out on the town. The problem came the next morning when Shew called me bright and early. Then my boss called. Then my mother. It was like a threesome of calls that repeated for three hours and drove me nuts. Who wants to be bothered when they’re drunk and trying to sleep? Finally answering, I was in full Mr. Pissy mode.

Suddenly I was being asked these questions about who I was with and where I went. Does any of that really matter? We’ve done a great job of being friends, but we spend so much time together it seems like we’re still dating. This meant we had to have a talk. EEK! I voiced that I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. If I wanted to answer to someone then I’d move back in with my parents or get married. I think we have an understanding but now I’m wondering if it really is possible to be friends with an ex. Will we always end up running around in a circles?

The drama was offset by the fact that London arrived in town and I was hoping to see him. The Animator and I were just drinking and looking for sexy fun when he found it and I was left waiting for London. Eventually London showed up (without any of the friends I hate!) and we had a drink and danced for a bit. Around 4:30am I was to the drunk point where bed was the only option. Leaving, London, suggested we meet on Tuesday night for a romp and Wednesday for lunch. Annoyed he wasn’t coming home with me, I agreed to the delayed date and went on my way. That night of drunkenness led to a broken picture and a mess on the floor. Oy!

When Tuesday finally arrived it was time for Disco Biscuit’s birthday and sexy London time… I could hardly wait. The party felt long because I had to last three hours before getting to play. Once The Animator and I made our way out to the bar scene I was ready to get drink number five in me. Around midnight we were at B Bar and some foreign guy tried telling me to put my phone away and that humans were more important. My argument went as such: A phone never tells me what to do, asks for anything or gives me shit. Anyone that wants to be in a relationship is an idiot. He got up and left our table. Too bad, I was hoping for a fight! The Animator told me to text London and it was sounding like a good idea. I sent a text just to say hello. No response. It was becoming very clear that I was being stood up. There were no set in stone plans but if you tell me you’re coming to see me then you damn well better show. Plus nothing makes me fly into a rage faster than someone making me wait.

Wednesday arrived and I didn’t here from London until it was again time for cocktails. Unfortunately I had become fried from five hangovers in seven days and terribly behind in work. It also seemed like I should refrain from jumping at the chance to climb on the person that used weed as an excuse not to hangout. Luckily we’re not dating so it holds no value and in a day it won’t matter. It’s disappointing that it’s been another six months and will probably be several more before we have a chance to hangout again.

The moral of this story is what I already knew. Stick with my cellular relationship. I can handle friends, but ex’s are trouble and lovers are disasters!